The Rahovart Saga
by Skaye
Summary: Post DMC 2. Dante returns from Hell and, after an attack on his home, he and Lucia are drawn into the dark Court of Lord Rahovart and his mysterious progeny. UPDATE: Ending on a nice note nightmares and bullets, typical...
1. Chapter 1

**Authors notes, i'm really not very good at them. Basically enjoy the story, be kind with the criticism, i'm a sensitive soul unconvincing sniff. None of the characters in this first chapter belong to me, they are all the property of some rich Capcom brain although if you're reading this you're probably already familiar with the characters. Hope I got them right, characters make a story.Mint choc chip is the greatestof all ice cream flavours.Bye, Skaye**

* * *

The sun rose in a red wash over the high roofs of the city making the pavements steam from last night's rain. Lucia saw it every morning now from her window in the guest room of the Devil May Cry. She yawned, stretched, dressed in her customary blue and grey and pleated her hair to one side as she had for the past 10 months. She had moved here initially to wait for Dante and keep the place running in his absence. She didn't know whether to expect him to come back alive or not so it seemed silly to hope. Nonetheless she kept the fridge stocked, took jobs from any client who called and slept in the guest room out of politeness. It had been hard to accept at first that she wanted him to come back, longed every moment to hear his voice, knocking, crash of the door falling in but so far nothing and it had been almost a year. She went down for her breakfast, cold plain rice from last night and coffee like black syrupy turpentine.

Midway through a rather uneventful morning, she heard a motorcycle engine outside and her heart leapt. She grinned at the crash of a falling dustbin and the curse that followed in a familiar deep voice she'd had in her head ever since first hearing it. She collected herself but didn't move, staying in position sitting on his desk waiting. Dante walked casually though the unlocked door and nearly fell back out of it again when he saw her. He balanced again quickly and swept his hair out of hisface trying to look like his eyes hadn't just temporarily vacated his skull.

"Lucia? What are you doing here?"

She smiled at him teasingly and walked over to meet him.

"I'm here keeping your bankbook out of the red and the cobwebs out of your office, _monsieur insouciant_, besides which I had to return your coin."

Dante smiled at her and walked past to the kitchen to get a drink.

"There's nothing wrong with my bank books, I like cobwebs and what the hell did you just call me?"

"It's not important." She replied flipping the coin at him and pouring herself a cold coffee. "What I want to know is why you tricked me so you would be forced to go to seal the portal instead of me."

"That's real cute, Lucia, I saved your life by doing that."

Lucia looked up, her eyes flashing.

"Did you? I could have handled whatever was down there just as well as you did."

Dante failed to note her mood and carried on.  
"Don't kid yourself, they would have been scraping you off the walls and pulling long red hairs out of the eternal river of fiery brimstone for months."

"And you think when you vanished that was the end of it? I'll have you know Arius wasn't as dead as you thought. He rose again, I had to face him alone and you know what? I was just fine. Since then I've been taking commission after commission to kill those crawling hell spawn. And the moment you return you condescend me like you're vastly stronger?"

Dante sighed realising there was only one way out of this that didn't involve violent and gruesome murder.

"I'm sorry, Lucia. I know you're strong I just thought I'd spare you that given that you'd had kind of a hard time of it already. Plus there's my father's little legacy to think about. I think it had to be me."

Lucia's expression softened and she nodded a kind of apology.

"Besides," Dante continued smiling again, "that coin was just made for a trick like that."

He flinched ready for the blow he expected in return but Lucia seemed to take it quite seriously and nodded gazing at the weapons on the far wall. They finished their drinks in silence. Lucia was the first to speak again, handing Dante two plastic cards and a small silver key.

"I've put the profits I made into accounts; you have $200 in your current account and $700 in savings. I also documented every case I investigated for future reference. The files are in the filing cabinet in your library in order of date."

She headed for the stairs leaving Dante a little stunned at her efficiency. It had never occurred to him to write down his cobs in such a way let alone to get a bank account. Cash in hand was safer, he figured. He got his brain back into gear and turned after her.

"Aren't you going to stick around?" he asked as casually as possible. She stopped on the stairs and turned smiling a little.

"I'll stay if I'm welcome."

"You're welcome as long as you help out like you have been and don't lose it at me too often."

"I appreciate it. I've been sleeping in the guest room anyway." She confessed.

"Cool, I'd hate to try and sleep practically choking on red hair." He replied with fake relief dodging easily the little burst of knives that sailed in his direction.

They lived for relative peace for the next couple of weeks although it soon became apparent that there were going to be a lot of misunderstandings regarding sense of humour. Lucia, it appeared, didn't have one. She was getting slowly better at telling when Dante was joking or not but she still took offence far too often at his easy chatter and casual insults and he grew quickly frustrated at her grumpiness and cold demeanour.

The end camejust over a month after Dante's return when Lucia had caughthim in a thoughtful mood fingering his amulet, feet up on his desk as the sun set outside. She came over silently still humbled from their fight the other night which had involved a shower with a broken lock on the door, a severely misunderstood commentand a lot of yelling. Now she was apologetic and eager to make peace.

She stood by the desk and gave him a slight smile he didn't return.

"What are you thinking about, Dante?" she asked cautiously.

"Nothing." He replied wearily, he hated being asked that. There was no simple sentence more certain to derail his train of thought so totally.

He glared at her icily.

"Which is now absolutely true thanks so much."

She was slightly nettled but remained calm.

"You were thinking about your mother." Sheobserved softly.

He started and focused on her now slightly riled.

"What the hell makes you think that?" he asked angrily.

She continued regardless without so much as a tremble in her voice in face of Dante's volcanic temper.

"That's what it means when you hold your amulet like that. That you're thinking about her."

Dante was on his feet now and truly smouldering.

"Who the hell do you think you are that you can just make assumptions like that? What gives you the right to talk to me about her?"

Lucia realised her mistake and back down a little.

"I just notice these things about you. I'm sorry I mentioned it."

"Just stay out of my past, Lucia. You can hardly get around your screwedup memorieslet alone go prying into mine."

Lucia's temper flared suddenly.

Her origins were a point of weakness she still wept about to herself late at night when her room was dark and still. To have Dante throw it in her face like that was intolerable.

Without a word, she turned savagely and stormed out snatching his keys from the desk as she left. The last Dante heard was the revving of his motorcycle engine and then silence and he was alone once again. He stood up calmly and carefully, took several deep breaths and then kicked his desk across the room.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you kindly for your reviews so far all two of you, i appreciate it. Here's my second offering and I hope you like it. This is for Jediferret and loveaswellashateforever (i hope i got that right) and also to wish Incubus a speedy recovery. As always characters, names etc. not mine. Changed my mind re - ice cream, cookie dough chip is superior. Bye, Skaye.**

* * *

Dante spent several uneventful and now lonely and transport-less days reading through the meticulously kept files Lucia had written about her demon-hunter days. He liked the shape of her writing, big copperplate letters which looped evenly between the lines of each page. Every file stated the location, numbers and physical description of each kill. Hell, if he had to count the number of demons he killed! It was enough for him if they ended up dead, never mind trying to suss their average height and power level.

He lived off black coffee and take-out pizza and reflected that his life was perhaps not as good as it could possibly be. Then again, he wasn't dead yet and at least there were no new plans yet in motion to turn Earth into a new Hell with the ultimate power. This was a distinct plus.

Playing himself at Pool one night, he heard a scratching sound at the door and moved for his guns which lay on the desk. The noise grew louder and then the door swung slowly open. Dante aimed one gun at the door; trespassers pissed him off more than just about anything else. Faster than a normal human could have seen, several winged shadowy shapes flitted into the room and swarmed around the stunned demon hunter smothering him in cold clammy darkness. This was a definitely new approach to the house-invasion strategy. They were too close to accurately use guns on so he dashed for the far wall where his weapons were kept with the shadows still attached and starting to attack covering his skin with odd little bites that stung and annoyed him but weren't really in the league of the flesh-burning, bone-breaking pain he was accustomed to.

Dante reached the wall, drew his sword and cut in deft circles around him, blade spinning and ringing like it was weightless. He punctuated every word with a stab and slash;

"Get. Off. Me. You. Little. Suckers. Die."

The shadows emitted shrill shrieks but persisted in their attack drawing blood out of him like pulling wires through his veins.

With another yell of "Diiiiie", he brought his sword slamming down, the point stopping millimetres from his skin over and over again until the shadows relinquished their hold and fled. He chased them out the door killing one en route which resulted in him being sprayed with a charming little fountain of old blood. It smelled terrible and did nothing to improve his mood. He waved his arms and shook blood everywhere spitting it out of his mouth.

Something shining in one of the many pools of red caught his eye, a slightly tarnished and very bloody gold ring. He picked it out of the morass and slouched off cursing to get cleaned up.

After a very thorough shower and cleaning the floor, ceiling and all four walls of his splattered office, Dante sat down again to examine the ring dropped by the creature he killed. It crossed his mind that perhaps he ought to write the whole thing down and add it to the little library of files he was gathering but couldn't at that moment be bothered. Besides this ring was interesting. He'd never been much of a jewellery fan, his amulet was the only piece he really wore and that was hardly out of vanity. But this ring had authority, it's weight and the deep, flawlessly engraved reddish-gold spoke of riches and class. Something the Devil May Cry had never been particularly associated with. Dante tossed and caught it a couple of times as he thought. Blood drinkers who burst when stabbed and carried jewels like this. The crest on the ring was an emblazoned 'R' surrounded by very detailed bats and three-pointed leaves. Definitely a vampire emblem. Not that it meant much to Dante.

He dropped it into a little dish in his desk drawer which contained handful of spent bullets, an ornate metal belt-buckle which he'd been given by a client for ridding it of demonic possession, Lucia's coin and a silver earring in the shape of a dagger going through a ruby red heart which had belonged to Trish during the brief period she'd stayed with him. He'd been a little mystified when she'd just up and left mumbling something about looking for her past.

But that was the past and the past, in Dante's book, was not a good place to be. If you got too busy looking at what was behind you, it meant you weren't looking at what was coming towards you.

He decided he had to look into this vampire thing. Having his home invaded and being plastered with putrid blood was not an offence he was going to let slide. There had to be someone he could ask about this ring. He racked his brains as he finished his disturbed game of Pool and by the time he potted black he had the answer. Lady.

The next day as soon as the sun rose, he set off for a city on almost the opposite coast of the country where Lady had set up shop several years ago as a Paranormal Detective and Hunter doing a little work in research with some other guys into effective weaponry for use against some of the more resilient creatures of the night. It was a job she seemed to have been born for. Dante had kept loosely in touch mainly only calling in if he needed something more specialized for a commission. He went there now and found the place in uproar. He wandered in without knocking or announcing his presence but nobody stopped him. He was pretty much universally known in these parts.

He found Lady at a workbench pouring silvery liquid of the highly-volatile kind into a metal shell. She looked up as he came in and gave him a smile but finished the shell before she said anything, sealing it shut with several small metal screws.

"Bighit you need a little assistance with, Dante? Or perhaps you just swung by to say hi."

He looked serious and flipped the ring to her from his pocket.

"I need one of your antiques guys to tell me about this."

Lady examined it carefully.

"It's nice. Never had you for the jewellery type though."

"It's not mine, a 'client' left it for me. I want to know what they were and where I can find them."

"Smells like blood."

"It's a vampire trinket, I know that. They're like magpies for hoarding shiny things."

"You know it's funny you should say so because Vin told me magpies used to be extensively associated with vampires in the Middle Ages."

"Did he now? Middle Age maniacs believed if you sneezed at the wrongphase of the moonit meant bad luck on your whole family for the next twelve generations. Hey speaking of which, what happened with you and Vin? Last I heard it was going pretty good and now I don't see him anywhere."

She looked uncomfortable and fiddled with the newly-completed explosive.

"Oh yeah, uh, it was going great until about 2 months ago he popped the question and wouldn't give up on the idea despite my most subtle hints. Now he lives in the South of Spain with a dud leg and I live here with a gun under my pillow."

"I'd be interested to hear how that happened but I don't have time. I want to know whatever your guys can tell me about that ring and now."

Lady sighed and slumped into a tattered leather seat.

"I'll see what I can do but it's been a bit hectic around here lately. Demons springing up out of the ground like axe-wielding spring flowers and we're understaffed after a big werewolf hit last fall."

"It's the life, isn't it?" Dante said leaning against the door frame. "I'll just stick around until I know where I'm headed next."

Lady nodded and stood again.

"I'll get you set up with a room and stuff. Paul had his head torn off in the last big raid I told you about so we have a new antiques guy but he's just as good and has the advantage of not being quite so creepy. I'll take your ring to him once I'm done here."

Dante walked out taking the hint and wandered the rest of the building checking out the new additions to the organisation's already formidable arsenal. This place was always worth the trip if only for the firearms.


	3. Chapter 3

**It's been a while since I updated on account of my computer being so perpetually useless so I thought I'd make it a double update. Also I'm bored and not a lot really happened in the last chapter when it comes down to it. Here's chapter three in which the story gets moving properly. Cradle of Filth is inspiring stuff to write to. I just love it. Seeing them live in December. So long to wait...Bye, Skaye.**

* * *

The next day in a small underground room with a long table down the middle and not much else, Dante was introduced to Lady's organisation's antiques curator. He was a short stocky man in his late 40's with wild red hair in a rough ponytail and a brown duster coat. He looked more like a back-ally drugs dealer than a curator of paranormal artefacts but he had the manner of a professional and a vast collection of knowledge. He handed the ring to Dante along with a map of the Mediterranean Sea and put a couple more item of jewellery in the same solid reddish gold on the table.

"I don't know who you pissed off, Dante, may I call you Dante? My name's Karl but it's not really important. Anyway, I don't know how you did it but it looks like you caught the interest of a dead vampire and scored a little invitation to his castle."

Dante and Lady looked blankly at Karl. He beamed excitedly.

"Let me lay it down for you. The ring you were given is from the Dis islands in the stormiest part of the Mediterranean Sea in a region known locally as 'The Maelstrom'. The islands are home to an exclusive community of vampires we've heard nothing from for almost ten years and that was when their coven leader, Lord Rahovart was assassinated under some very odd circumstances. Now these suckers rarely take live humans or anything else for that matter back to that little court of theirs but throughout history whenever they intended someone to come to them they used a piece of jewellery like this as a calling card. We have a few of them collected here dating all the way back to the early 12th Century. These guys are pretty old, notoriously elusive and very very powerful. And I think they want you."

Dante examined the assorted rings, pendants and earrings on the table in front of him.

"So they want me to just show up at this island getaway of theirs, huh?"

"That appears to be their intention. You'll need your own transport though; the locals stay way clear of that place. Even the transcontinental flight paths are arranged to bypass it completely."

Lady looked at the little pile of glittering gold and then at Dante.

"So are you actually going to go?"

He smiled slightly, picked up his ring and turned to leave.

"Need you ask?"

Karl handed him the map on which he'd marked the location of the islands with a red marker and a suggested route in black.

"Take this with you and watch out when you're dealing with vampires. If you let yourself get sucked into their world you might not be able to leave even if you want to."

Lady shook her head in mock mourning.

"Karl, you don't know who you're talking to here, if Dante isn't running that place by this time next week it either means they killed him or hemassacred every single one of them."

Dante smiled again and nodded.

"Or the area isn't covered by local pizza delivery in which case they can just go directly to Hell and not collect my $200."

He set off for the islands with a few specialist weapons gifted from the organisation and a many little pieces of useless advice from every single person who'd heard what he was planning. Which was pretty much everyone there. He was flown over to Spain overnight by Lady's people's private plane (a rickety piece of illegal engineering that practically collapsed spluttering onto the runway by the end of the flight) and hired a boat just as the sun rose over the eastern horizon. It was beautiful scudding over the little waves of the sea with the sun growing warmer by the minute and the beach disappearing behind with its smell of fish and its helpful friendly people who clearly thought he was out of his mind. Dante didn't care one bit. He followed the map approximately until about mid-morning he sighted land, three small islands with vast white gleaming buildings on the biggest central one.

He heaved the little boat up onto the beach of the larger island and walked with all confidence and a multitude of firearms up through the park-like gardens of the palace. It was a pretty classy place, he had to admit. White all over and an odd combination of the grand ancient Colossal style of Egyptian architecture and elaborate, curling Spanish. He was impressed but had seen enough places like it not to be blown away by looks alone. He went in through the wide open doors and found the décor slightly unsettling at first. Everything was red and gold. The drapes were heavy red velvet, the chairs and sofas were wrought gold with red velvet cushions. The tables were solid gold with red marbled tops and red flowers, roses, carnations, freaky orchids and others stood in gold vases. The place gave him the definite creeps.

If someone had wanted to decorate their house to deliberately give the impression of standing inside a beating human heart, they would have probably ended up with something like this. The smell was equally cloying, a sickly incense drifting over the deep scent of something much less pleasant. Metallic and bitter like blood.

Dante cast off his coat and left it by the door not because he was too warm but because he didn't want to look like he belonged here in any way which was the eerie impression he got. The door was open and nobody kept guard. It was as if they wanted him to simply wander in. Moving into the main rooms, a dining room joined onto a cavernous ballroom, a library full of ancient books bound in red leather with gold lettering, a parlour with a cold fireplace and many smaller sitting rooms, he found each one full of statues; life-size, hyper-realistic renderings of beautifully dressed people frozen in the acts of dancing, talking, sitting on sofas. One had a glass of wine in his hand poised half way to his lips. There were candles everywhere, in red and gold naturally, but they had been extinguished for some time. Dante continued his wandering and found at the very highest room of the palace a massive gallery filled with weapons of all kinds.

"Now this is more like it." He said looking with a large smile around at the vast array of axes, swords, clubs, maces, crossbows and countless knives. A whole wall was given over to demon weapons and he saw quite a few he'd read about or heard of before. He called out to the empty palace;

"Anybody mind if I take a look at these things?" a few seconds of silence, "I didn't think so."

He hefted a large sword carved from hilt to tip with a variety of runes older than any seen scratched on obelisks in Britain or Scandinavia. He swung it around a few times and was pleased to see little tongues of fire running up and down it. Perhaps the trip wasn't a total loss. He caught himself almost wishing Lucia could see it, perhaps it might coax a smile out of her. They could spar with those cruel-looking Sai knives, moving in perfect sync as they seemed to do effortlessly, his strength and force perfectly complementing her speed and stealth… Not Dante thoughts at all really. This place was cracking him up for sure. He shook his head vigorously and put the sword back before heading downstairs again just in time to see the sun set over the sea tingeing everything flame red. It made the house seem even more vibrant and disturbingly bloody. He shivered then suddenly heard a woman's soft voice behind him although he'd heard no approaching footsteps.

"I'm so glad you had the chance to see our house at its best in the dying light, Lord Son of Sparda."

Dante turned and looked straight at the newcomer. She was one of the statues but transformed, she looked almost human and wore a long flowing archaic dress of red velvet with heavy gold jewellery. She had long dark hair and although her skin was no longer stone, it was unnaturally pale; definitely a vampire. She seemed to hear his thoughts.

"It's a powerful spell put on the house for our protection. As long as we're inside the walls by sunrise we don't need to go downstairs and sleep in some musty crypt, we are simply encased in stone as we stand. Saves a lot of time and it's so much more dignified."

Dante was almost speechless. Almost. He gathered his thoughts.

"You called, I came. I could say more for your welcome party though. Who are you?"

She smiled.

"My name is Miri. I am a Lady of the court here. We were of late under the Lord Rahovart but as I know you've heard he died some time ago. Now we are ruled by his mortal bride, Genevieve. You will meet with her later and she will tell you personally why she had you brought here. Until then you may join our little soiree in the ball room. Please follow me."

Miri took his arm and led him back to the immense red-draped ballroom which was now quite crowded with figures dancing gracefully to a slow morbid waltz.

Dante was dazed by the twirling red and sudden realization that all the statues had spontaneously come to life but he covered it up well and moved to a wall as far away from the little string quartet as possible to wait for a slightly more satisfying explanation as to just what in Hell he was doing there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks truly for the reviews everybody, I'm touched. And I totally agree with Keep Me In The Shadows and Embrace-The-Darkness (except about the ass part, I'm female) but DMC 2 and Lucia as a character aretoo often ruled off as being crap. I wanted to see how the characters worked given a chance in my twisted little world. It's another chapter and i promise no more critique on ice-cream. In this one you get a little explanation as to just where in the hell it's all going. On with the show, Skaye.**

* * *

The dreary music and dancing continued for over an hour and for all of it, Dante leaned against the wall surrounded on three sides by graceful figures all in red velvet with the same gold jewellery. Many of the women gave him little smiles or glances of admiration but on the whole he was politely avoided like a vague guest of honour. Miri, the little dark-haired woman he'd spoken to earlier came up to him and bowed with a new respect.

"Our Lady Genevieve comes. She would speak to you after she has addressed the court. I take it you are having an enjoyable time?"

Dante was nettled a little by the joke in her tone but didn't let it show; he just stretched, yawned and said with full sincerity;

"Best party I've been to in a long time. Tell my host kudos on the music. I just must get the name of that song that seems to have been playing over and over for the last hour."

She smiled sweetly and said nothing further, just walked back through the crowd of dancers to the dais near to where the string orchestra played. She signalled them to stop and then held up her hands to get the attention of the room which instantly fell silent.

"My Lords and Ladies," she began, "it is my honour to present to you this

sublime evening our gracious Lady Genevieve."

There was polite muted applause and an obviously mortal woman in a dress of pure and shimmering gold threads steeped up to the dais. She bowed slightly to the assembled vampires and looked straight at Dante bowing her head. He felt like he was in the middle of some stoned satanic Halloween party. And considering his profession it was surprising how rarely he thought such things. The woman on the dais was speaking;

"I humbly thank you. And I must extend my gratitude on behalf of all of us for the presence of our guest tonight. Dante, the Son of Sparda."

The vampires turned to look at him and he tried hard not to think of how ridiculous all of this was. Like a mixture between a carnival, a fanatic religious service and a Bram Stoker cosplayer convention. He managed to look sincere.

He walked through the gap in the crowd up to the dais and stood beside Genevieve who bowed again. She was as beautiful as any of the vampire women but showed signs of aging and there was a distinct strain in her placid expression; she was worried. She spoke again;

"If you will please, Dante, I would speak to you in private. I desperately beseech you for your help in a matter of great importance both to me personally and to my beloved coven."

Dante could see from the looks she gave the vampires as she said this that they were far from beloved to her. She was afraid and repulsed. She hated them but she stayed. Dante was faintly interested in spite of himself as well as being drawn in just by the strangeness of it all. He shrugged and found words;

"I'll have to ask you what it is you want before I sign anything but if I can I'll help."

The smile she gave him was one of genuine relief.

"The Son of Sparda agrees to lend us his aid." More applause. "We will retire now and I will inform him of our desperate situation.

She took him by the arm leading him off the little stage with a wave to the quartet to play on.

She led him out of the ballroom and down a flight of stairs he hadn't seen previously. They led all the way down to a small parlour blessedly not decorated in the same lurid red and gold. This room was a simple deep green with dark wooden furniture, fairly simple and plain.

"My quarters," Genevieve explained, "I can't honestly stand all that red and gold. It turns my stomach. Especially as I know what they do up there." She shuddered.

Dante felt sorry for her and appreciated the simplicity of the room and her less formal manner. She gestured to a chair and waited for him to sit before sitting herself down opposite him looking intensely at him with a plea in her eyes.

"I apologise for the way you were summoned here, Dante, but there was no other way. They don't do things any other way. It just isn't done."

She ran her hands over her face in exhaustion. Dante guessed she didn't sleep much. He cut straight to the point.

"What do you want from me?"

She looked baleful and, taking a deep breath, began her story;

"You'll have heard the stories of Lord Rahovart; the vampire leader of this horrid coven. I ran into him when my circle were trying to exorcise a church. We thought it was demon possessed. We never once suspected vampires but that was what we found. We were unprepared, didn't stand a chance. They massacred most of us simply for our impertinence. I was only 21 then but already a powerful Priestess. Rahovart couldn't kill me so he kept me and soon I suppose he took a fancy to me. It would be untrue to say he loved me, I was an entirely different species, fundamentally below him, you understand. But he grew fond of me. We had a child, a lovely daughter named Madeline. She was so beautiful and so very alive. She was vivid and aware, a little light. She wanted to see everything, hear everything and feel everything all at once. I adored her. Even Rahovart couldn't help loving her. it didn't last, it rarely does as you've experienced."

Dante thought briefly of Trish leaving, of Lucia leaving in the same way. He nodded. Genevieve sighed and continued;

"Rahovart grew restless or perhaps just bored and he left. He returned here without a word. I was left alone to bring up Madeline. I never stopped looking for him though. Years later when Madeline was in her 18th year, a cheerful energetic girl with no odd powers or freakish habits as one might expect from the child of a vampire, I got news of the court on the islands of Dis. I came here at once desperate to find Rahovart, to present Madeline to him as the beautiful young woman she was. I got here alright during the day and the two of us settled down to await the vampires awakening. It was a disaster. The remnant of my old circle with some new allies and a lot of powerful demon hunters followed Madeline and I. They attacked Rahovart and killed him in his daylight sleep. There was nothing I could do to stop it. At that moment he died my Madeline collapsed as well bleeding as he did though she had no wounds. She fell at last into a deathly sleep in which she has remained since. I was automatically crowned as the new Lady of the Court as Rahovart's consort. That was ten years ago and ever since I have searched for a way to cure Madeline. I am now almost 50, I don't have long to live and I want to see my daughter breathe again, I want it to be Rahovart's child that assumes the leadership of this grotesque band after me."

Dante listened with an odd mixture of pity, bewilderment and slight disgust for vampire tradition and human stupidity. Finally he nodded;

"I feel for you, Genevieve, now please tell me what it is you think I can do that won't make this worse."

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes now. She was tired to the bone and worn down with grief and loneliness. It took her a moment to form the words but eventually she did speak;

"Dante, there is a way you can cure my daughter. I need you to give her some of your blood. The blood of a demon will boost her natural power and heal her, I know this for certain. Please, I beg you, will you give a little of your blood to save my Madeline?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next chapter, early by my standards. I have a few shout outs this time but i'll keep them brief. Devil'sfangirl, i know who you are and i hope you won't try to ruin the ending for these folks. Embrace-The-Darkness, no worries, I'm just as bad at some things. We're all a little evil. Thanks to Keep Me In The Shadows, your reviews always say nice stuff. Jared, if you have a problem with my characters, I appreciate you notifying me but I can't change anything if you aren't specific. What's wrong with them? As far as I could tell in the game Lucia had no personality so any I could give her had to be an improvement. Get back to me if you can. Thanks also to VergilSparda666, always a pleasure and I agree she's not always done well. Hmm, that wasnt so breif after all. Oh well, here comes the main feature. Bye, Skaye.**

* * *

For a moment Dante sat shocked at the idea of giving his blood to a vampire. He was sceptical, what good could it possibly do? How could the blood of a half demon cure near death in a vampire? The lady was clearly locked out of her head and lost her keys. But then he thought what the hell? It wouldn't do him any harm to try and at least trying and failing to help Genevieve was better than just laughing at her and refusing on the grounds of scepticism. He also in a strange way felt sorry for her, a human in the midst of a vampire court clinging desperately to the one thing that linked her to them, to her husband, perhaps to her sanity. He nodded again;

"I'll do what I can, Genevieve. I can't promise it'll work but I'll try.

Her eyes lit up with happiness and a slight feverish desperation.

"It will work, I'm sure of it. Thank you, Dante, thank you, bless you."

He was a little freaked by the extent of her gratitude but she was smiling and clearly happy so he wasn't going to rain on it. He smiled a little himself at the irony of her blessing. It was nice to have a grateful client for a change. Normally all he got was a kind of edginess along with horror looking at the mess he'd made of their living room or nave or vast gothic castle.

Genevieve stood. She held out a hand to help Dante up and led him to a large pair of white doors at the end of the room opposite to where they had entered. She opened them softly and stepped inside. The room was different again from the one they had just left. The walls were soft cream inlaid with gold and all the colours seemed muted and natural. The light was also faint; a few candles behind smoked glass gave the place easy warmth that was miles away from the harsh carnal red of the upper floors or the airy green of Genevieve's room. There was a massive posted bed in the centre of the room on which lay like a sculpture behind voile curtains a truly gorgeous young woman. Her hair was golden and gently wavy, her skin was pale cream and her form was frail and delicate like a bird's. Dante was not usually awkward with women, quite the opposite in face but now his breath literally caught in his throat. Genevieve gestured lovingly at the girl;

"My Madeline; now that you see her do you understand why I must save her?"

Dante nodded dumbly then shook his head again to clear it and walked up to the bed. It was like approaching a shrine. He pulled apart the curtains; sure of what he was to do as if it had been rehearsed. He took out a slim sharp knife (one of Lucia's which she'd thrown at him weeks ago in a fit of rage, he thought with the slightest of pangs) and with it made a cut in his hand. The blood seeped through at first then flowed out easily. He held it to Madeline's mouth while Genevieve watched from behind him expectantly. For a moment he just bled and she just lay still then she began to suck at his hand, drawing the blood from him like breath. He winced slightly. Her eyes opened, blue and startlingly clear, and she looked up at Dante and her mother. She didn't release his hand until he tugged it free of her jaws. He looked at the wound watching it close up considerably slower than normal. Madeline sat up and said weakly;

"Thank you," smiling at him brightly making his knees weak then she collapsed again this time into sleep.

Genevieve began to cry. She kissed her daughter then Dante's cheek thanking him over and over again. She offered him gold, weapons, all the books in the library, any woman there as his bride, anything he wished for. He shrugged it off thoroughly embarrassed and insisting he didn't need anything.

"At least you'll stay another day for the celebrations tomorrow night in your honour though?" she asked after she'd calmed a little. Dante considered. He didn't really have anything urgent to return home for (pizza boxes, Marionette slaying, Lucia's grudge and more black coffee) and it would give him time to think over what he wanted as a reward. He shrugged again;

"Sure, I'll stay. It might be nice to eat something that wasn't delivered in less than half an hour or my money back for a change."

Genevieve grinned and blessed him again then showed him to rooms where he could sleep if he required as well as bathe, find food that wasn't served still beating and bind his almost-healed cut. He thanked her and left the mother and daughter alone. He went to take a bath and collect his thoughts.

Bathing in rose-scented water was odd. Dante wasn't sure he liked it really, smelling like a hanging basket, but a bath was a bath and at least the water was warm and deep. He closed his eyes and thought of the gash on his wrist. He thought of the knife and of Madeline and of those blood-craving lunatics upstairs. He thought of home and his business. He thought of Lucia. His eyes snapped open. Lucia? Why was he thinking of Lucia? He panicked slightly and washed himself before drying, dressing, taking a couple of seconds to look hopelessly at the odd site of himself in a mirror with a gold frame with rose petals in his hair and then went back up the stairs. The sun was just up and the palace was full of statues again. Dante walked through them with contempt. Hard to believe he was spooked by this place. Impossible to think that crimson draped walls and stark white faces with gold jewels and the endless swirling of red velvet gowns and coats could make his skin crawl as it had.

He made his way back up to the weapons gallery and spent an enjoyable morning trying out various swords, knives and a large axe he'd taken a shine to. He liked the noise it made as he brought it swinging down in a bright metallic arc. It was a noise that said 'don't mess with me or I'll be freeing up some space between your shoulders and your head before you can say mercy.'

During the afternoon, Dante walked around the island loathing the manicured lawns and hedges and wondering about why vampires would bother with a sundial. He returned to his rooms late afternoon and slept for a few hours before being woken just before sunset by Genevieve who told him he had to dress for dinner. The concept was relatively foreign to Dante who had never 'dressed up' for dinner in his life that he could remember.

Nonetheless, he was kitted out with an expensive black suit that he was told went well with his silver hair and blue eyes along with two silver gauntlets and a silver ring which he refused to wear. He didn't mind the dinner jacket but he had his limits. His hair was combed and styled to sit straight and tidy and his nails were clipped and filed. He felt like a complete moron. He got a great deal more admiring glances as he entered the hall, however and he had to smile a little at that.

The highest order of the court, almost 50 vampires were seated in the dining room which was red and gold like everything else and he was given the seat of honour (he was told) on the left of Genevieve who sat at the head. On her right was Madeline who seemed thrilled to be conscious again and beamed enthusiastically at everyone. She chattered to her mother, to Dante, to everyone present barely remembering to eat between her exclamations and opinions.

Dante was sick of her constant talking by second course and by dessert he was almost ready to gag her, vampire royalty or otherwise. It was rare that he ran into someone who talked more than him and when he did he invariably disliked it. The meal, to their credit, was great. He'd never tasted so many things he couldn't pronounce in one meal before. After dinner, Genevieve stood up and tapped her glass with a spoon; an age old gesture for attention.

"I thank you all for joining me for this little dinner this evening. As you see, our dearest Madeline is healthy again and it is all thanks to Dante that this is possible. We owe him a great debt of gratitude and it is in his honour that I have organized this little party. I trust you to extend to him your full courtesy and respect. If he asks something of you, it shall be done. I intended to leave my next statement for a while to come but as this seems like the optimum time; Dante, saviour of our line and bravest champion, it is my wish that you wed my daughter, my darling Madeline, and become the Lord of this Court."


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok, the story finally got moving last chapter and what happens? I get no reviews. I know you're out there, people. I can hear you breathing. Even if you just leave me a word to say "This is sub-standard, shut up Skaye." at least I know it's being read. My little rant over. Promise. Wedding plans for Dante this chapter? Unlikely. It gets pretty messy though, figured we could use some action. Lucia will be back in either next chapter or the one after that and I'm working on her character. Here goes, Skaye.**

* * *

There was silence in the hall for a whole five seconds. During this five whole seconds, Dante's thoughts raced;

'What the….? Marry? Marry Madeline? Become Lord Dante? Ooh, Lord Dante... She is a pretty girl. An annoying pretty girl, oh no! Need a way out fast. Kill them all? Die? Plead innocence? Plead complete incompatibility? Plead insanity? Might just be insane by the end of this. Help me, help me, help me Lucia… not Lucia again. Madeline's the problem. Must get away from Madeline. I need to think. I need an excuse. I need time.'

The entire table was watching for his reaction. He realised this and straightened up putting on his best convincing smile. He controlled the tremor in his voice as he spoke;

"I, uh, am most honoured by this unexpected proposal. May I just say how flattered I am that you think me worthy of this, uh, incredible privilege. I am however reluctant to accept the responsibility of this position and I would, um, beseech you for more time to consider this. Please."

He applauded himself sarcastically inside his head. The looks he was getting from the vampires weren't all that promising. He clenched his fists under the table. This was what he got for trying to help people… He suddenly longed more than anything else to be back at the Devil May Cry playing Pool or watching the phone which never rang ever or arguing heatedly with Lucia because she just didn't understand sarcasm. Genevieve saved the situation from total disaster by speaking at that point;

"Perfectly understandable, Dante, I see that it is a rather large proposal and one you were utterly unprepared for therefore please take as long as you need to think about it. Now if I may ask everyone to adjourn to the Ball Room for the beginning of the dancing."

The vampires rose as she did and moved in pairs towards the hall. Genevieve escorted Madeline so Dante was free to walk alone. He slouched near the door between one room and the other watching the dancing and thinking with all his might. Genevieve started off the dance, a slightly more up-tempo gavotte, and then came back to speak to Dante. She looked anxious again.

"I must apologise, Dante. I assumed you knew what to expect. I hope I didn't embarrass you too badly."

Dante fumed and thought up about a hundred replies to that each one of which he killed before it left his throat.

"It's fine. I just don't understand why. Why would you want me to marry your, uh, Madeline?"

"We're in a vulnerable position now politically. It may not be enough for this Court that Madeline is the daughter of Rahovart. She is, after all, half human and he never once acknowledged her as his successor in life. She needs a strong consort or she will be challenged and overthrown. She's weak yet. Also I thought it a fitting reward. She is a beautiful girl."

They watched her for a moment as she danced surrounded by her people who, for the moment, adored her. She was vibrant indeed, a flash of white in a sea of red like a lily in a field of roses. She twirled and twirled laughing in an eerily almost manic way. She seemed crazed although if the others around her noticed they didn't show it. As they watched, she grew more violent. She threw out her hands as she danced, her nails scratching the faces and necks of those who danced near her. They backed off. The music stopped as the whole hall began to notice her. She twirled madly, her laughter coming out in screams. Sheshrieked piercingly, still laughing, sobbing, she called the name of her father, "Rahovart! Rahovart!" over and over. Genevieve started towards her but Dante held her back seeing something very wrong. The girl's back was bleeding. Her shoulder blades were leaking blood. As the twirled, they suddenly burst into black wings covered with leathery skin. She spread them above her head splattering all with tiny droplets of blood. She shrieked and shrieked like a banshee blood flowing from her eyes, her mouth and the gaping wounds on her back where the wings had sprouted. She sobbed pitifully and fell to the floor in a pool of her own blood. She shook violently once or twice and then looked slowly up at the door where her mother still stood in horrified silence beside Dante. Madeline smiled calmly despite the blood covering her cheeks and fogging her eyes. It seeped from her mouth as she spoke;

"Good evening mother. Delightful dance, don't you think, Dante? Am I not a beautiful bride?"

Dante strode towards her wishing he was armed with something more than just his purloined knives. She stood again with her hands folded in front of her like a young girl, wings arched over her head and still driping grotesquely with thick blood. Dante pulled out two of the slender knives. The crowd of vampires made to leave but as soon as they got to the door, Madeline soared up suddenly on her new wings and landed in front of them tearing the foremost three's heads off with one monstrous swipe. She smiled again;

"I can't put on a good show without an attentive audience, you know. Now be a good audience and sit still, won't you?"

They stood frozen and shocked. Dante saw his chance and took it hurling the first of the knives at Madeline's back. Without even turning, she brushed it out of the air with one wingtip. Then she whirled around to face Dante, her eyes wide and angry.

"Why do you try to hurt me, my blood lover? You were all saving grace this time yesterday."

Dante didn't let his alarm show.

"I wasn't aware at that point that I was dealing with such a head-case, doll. I thought I'd just wake up the sleeping beauty and go home to my pizza like in the fairy tales."

She laughed a high piercing laugh again and threw the knife back at him. It lodged deep into his shoulder. She advanced towards him spitting out words like bullets;

"Games. It's always games with you, Dante, my gracious Lord. That's why you'll never be truly powerful or great, because at the end of the day it's not about glory or honour or any of the higher ideals. It's just about whether you win or lose and how stylishly you pull it off. Am I right?"

Dante pulled the knife out of his shoulder ignoring the protest of tearing skin and muscle. He wiped the blood from the engraved emblem of the Vie de Marli; Lucia's knives saving his bacon again. He wished he had time to appreciate the irony of that. Madeline circled him leering with her fangs. Dante had had just about enough. He pulled handfuls of the blades out and threw them in blinding succession at the taunting girl. He used up twelve knives, 7 were his own, 3 belonged to Lucia and the other 2 he had taken from the vast armoury upstairs. Not a single one hit its mark. Madeline smiled again;

"Had you taken more time to refine your skill I would be bleeding on the floor by now. Lucky for me your aim is dreadful, darling."

Dante wasgenerally pretty confident in impossible situations but even he knew when to call a time out. And currently he was surrounded by vampires at the beck and call of a mutated psychopath howling for his blood. He was unarmed, vastly outnumbered and not even in his own clothes. Time for the coward's way out. He ran. He bolted out through the nearest door leading from the Ball Room with pursuit hot on his heels. The palace was vast and he had no idea where he was going. Pelting wildly along the nearest corridor, a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed him sending him reeling off balance for a moment. He recovered quickly and stood up again ready to slug the daylights out of his attacker. The face looking down on his was distraught andtear-stained and not for the first time since they'd met. Genevieve. She pulled him down corridor after corridor, through dizzying red rooms and doorways with gold flashing from everything. Then down and down narrow stairs to the green room he'd seen earlier. She bolted the door behind them and slumped into a chair in exhausted defeat. She cried a little and moaned the names of her husband, daughter and a few Dante didn't recognise. She looked up at him standing awkwardly by the door. He had no idea what to do with crying people althoughit seemed to happen a lot around him.

"I'm so truly sorry; all of what has happened is my fault. My Madeline has become a monster. All that remains is to kill her and this may prove impossible. She has the support of the court; she is powerful with your blood now. We will die and she will rule as my husband did with terror and murder. How can we endure it?"

Dante didn't know. The revelation that Madeline had all of his abilities and many of his memories through the blood was an unwelcome shock and it made things a hundred times more difficult. He'd never had to fight someone who knew his next move before he did. Genevieve would have had the same problem and she couldn't even fight. They needed someone Madeline had never met, never bitten. They needed a powerful outsider. Dante needed an ally. The problem was that he could count the number of powerful demon-hunter allies he had on the fingers of one foot.The answerdawned upon him in a bright unwelcome streak – Lucia. He needed Lucia.


	7. Chapter 7

**What can I say? Thanks so much to Emrace-The-Darkness and Keep Me In The Shadows, my two lovely regulars for your reviews, i feel really bad about making such a fuss last time. Happy now, promise. This one's for you guys and, yes, it's a flashback. Thanks to Jared for pointing out to me the very simple paradox in my writing i miraculously missed, any deviation from nothing is a change and thus out of character. My bad.I tried to make hera tad more emotional in this chapter. Hope this pleases you. And lastly to 00 i don't know if you were joking or what but if you actually read the bleeding story before you asked that you'd have realised pretty early on that Dante never at any point mentions marrying Lucia. It's my own flaky character, Madeline, who the proposed wedding plans are with and that seems to have gone south by this chapter anyhow.Try reading it before leaving a review next time. That's all from me, another chapter now, Skaye.**

* * *

Lucia… the name carried Dante away from the panic-filled serene green room and into memory.

He stood with Lucia in the makeshift firing-range of his home's dark and clammy basement. The two of them had been competing for the past 4 hours to destroy the most targets. So far he was wining by a fair bit and reminded her of it every time she stepped up to take her shot. Target after target fell to his bullets, her knives. They were almost perfectly matched in combat. But not quite, as Dante never got tired of reminding her. They ran out of targets and crossed to the other end of the room once again to stand up more and reclaim her knives. At the far end of the range by the targets, she stopped him suddenly with a hand on his arm. She looked up at him in all sincerity and pressed a knife, flat first, into the palm of his left hand and closed his fingers gently around it. He looked at her quizzically.

"Listen to me for a moment. This knife was once my most treasured possession, Dante. I wish for you to have it."

Dante unfolded his fingers, confused and a little embarrassed by his partner's sudden sobriety. He examined the blade in question. It was almost as long as his hand from finger tip to wrist, smooth well-crafted metal, perfectly balanced for throwing with a small handle for stabbing. It was also razor sharp and deadly. But other than the emblazoned crest of her home on the flat of the blade, nothing particularly special. Lucia kept many knives like this. As he examined it, she laid her hand fondly on it.

"It was my remote link to Matier. If ever I urgently needed her I could use this knife to speak with her. Now Matier is dying, Dante, and it is her wish that I put this knife to better use now. I want you to keep it with you so that when I leave you can always reach me."

Dante wondered silently at her certainty that she would one day leave and also at her solemn but calm acceptance that her beloved mentor and surrogatemother was dying at last. He couldn't speak. She saw this and continued in a more factual tone.

"All you must do is place it in your hand like this then raise it to your head so that you are looking along the blade. You focus solely on thoughts of me and picture speaking to me. Try to hear my voice again. Then just bring the blade down and make a cut across the palm of your left hand. As long as the blood flows over the knife, we will be able to talk no matter where either of us are."

Dante considered this carefully and eventually found words.

"Thank you, Lucia. It's obvious how much this means to you. I'll keep it with me."

They'd stood together in silence among the sharp splinters of wooden targets for a moment while Lucia collected her thoughts and feelings and Dante discretely watched the way her face changed as she held back tears. He berated himself instantly for being such a moron andreset the targets before trudging back up to the firing end of the range ready for the next round of firing but Lucia seemed to have lost interest and walked silently off upstairs. Dante had for one foolish moment felt hurt at her rejection and then after shaking himself thoroughly he resumed fire blasting little wooden targets into smoking splinters.

Back in the green room now, he slipped the hidden knife out of his chest pocket and looked at it again for the first time really since he'd been given it. He ran his finger along the blade too lightly to be cut and thought of her again, standing defiant over him flat on his back after a sparring match gone wrong, her red hair over one shoulder, blue eyes sparkling with laughter or murderous rage (he was never entirely sure which.) He made up his mind quickly and raised the knife to his face thinking, in spite of himself, of a moment in some Shakespeare play he'd caught on TV once. He concentrated on Lucia, warmth spreading through him, and he heard her voice again, 'you can always reach me…'

Time to put that theory to test. Keeping her firmly in mind, Dante brought the knife down and cut a gash across his left hand with it. A painful twinge of sympathy resounded from his still-healing right hand and he felt the blood beginning to seep over the knife. There was a strange lurching feeling like falling, (or was it flying?) and then he heard Lucia's voice clear as a bell inside his head.

"Dante? I hear you. What is the matter?"

He caught his breath with joy. He wasn't doomed.

"Lucia, I don't have long to explain. The matter is life or death. Come to the Islands of Dis in the Mediterranean Sea as fast as possible, I…." He paused, hating himself for saying the words he never thought he'd say to another living being. "I need your help."

He swore he could hear her slight smug smile and then she spoke again growing more indistinct ashis wound closed;

"I'm on my way, hang on Dante."

The blood stopped flowing and suddenly he was back on Planet Earth. Genevieve was looking at him like he was mad and he was sitting on the floor smiling like an idiot with blood quickly clotting around the knife he still clutched in his left hand like a life line. He looked up at Genevieve flipping his hair out of his eyes with a casual tone that suggested they weren't at that moment hiding underground from hordes of homicidal creatures of the night.

"We have back-up on the way. I've called in the cavalry"


	8. Chapter 8

**Short chapter this time everybody, just transitional between big fight #1(minus Lucia) and big fight #2(plus demon weapons). Harris, if you're reading this I hope you get the axe joke. Been a while since Written In Blood, hasn't it? On with it, Skaye.**

* * *

For hours, Dante and Genevieve hid in the little room barely daring to whisper.

Hiding was a relatively new experience for the demon-hunter and the more he saw of it, the more it reinforced his decision that it wasn't for him. The air was tense and growing stale as little fresh air could penetrate the heavy barred doors. He was still in the ridiculous evening suit ensemble they'd dressed him in the previous night and hoped with all his might he would be able to change before Lucia saw him like this. He paced and thought about how the hell he'd gotten into this mess in the first place – his damned curiosity and that damned ring. The damned attacking vampires had a lot to do with it too. He sat down and remained there until Genevieve at last stood and went to the door.

"The sun has risen, Dante. We may now ascend and see the damage done and meet your 'cavalry'."

He sighed and stood up;

"Finally! Mind if I swing by the armoury too? I'd like to pick up something a little more deadly than the little throwing needles I was equipped with last round."

They climbed the stairs and found the palace as it had been the day before; calm, undisturbed and empty but for statues. The armoury they found stripped of demon weapons entirely. Only human weapons remained. Dante almost despaired. He hefted up a human axe on a long metal handle and swung it in a might arc as if striking at an invisible Madeline in the air. The head of the axe went spinning off and hurtled into the wall at the other side of the immense gallery embedding itself a good six inches into the wooden beam. Not good. He chose a good sword anyway and, deciding against a potentially disastrous trial run, he shouldered it, pocketed a few knives and headed out.

In the spirit of experimentation, Dante tried attacking one of the vampire statues swinging a heavy punch at its stone head. That punch, he knew well, could have taken out a wall half a foot thick and yet it cracked off the stone leaving not a dent. He howled in pain and clutched his bruised right hand. It would have to wait until nightfall after all.

He reclaimed his trench coat from where he'd left it by the main door on his way out to the gardens. He removed the dreadful dinner jacket, shirt, cravat and waistcoat he'd been stuck in and replaced them with his beloved coat.

Genevieve was also in the garden sitting on a bench and watching the sea in the direction of Spain. She still looked melancholy and Dante was in no mood to try and cheer her up – what precisely did you say to someone whose only child and treasure turned out to be a murderous psycho? He decided silence was his best bet. They watched together for hours, shaded from the strong sun by a wooden terrace around three sides of their bench threaded with red roses.

At long last, just as the sun was getting near to setting, Dante saw a boat approaching at a reckless speed. It swerved suicidally into the little bay and, riding its own momentum, it rode halfway up the beach before halting miraculously without tipping. It could only be one person. Lucia stepped out of it a little shaken and very damp but not about to show it for a moment. She strode up the rest of the beach and through the garden, her eyes opening a little wider at the sight of the palace. She saw Dante and came up, tossing him one of his own demon swords from home. He grinned gratefully and she smiled then looked curiously at Genevieve.

"I have heard of you, _Madame_, you must be Genevieve."

Genevieve smiled and replied in French, her native language;

"And you must be Dante's cavalry."

Lucia lapsed easily into French and they spoke for a moment as Genevieve brought her up to date on the situation. Dante stood at Genevieve's side looking hopelessly blank and watching the rapid exchange of strange words like a high-speed tennis match. Lucia at last turned to him;

"You got involved with vampires. Were you not warned?"

"Yeah, of course they warned me but it wasn't one of those warnings I tend to listen to."

She smiled again.

"How like you. I'm amazed you thought to use the knife. I felt sure you would have forgotten."

He shrugged it off, a little stung that she thought him so flippant.

"Damn thing jabbed me in the ribs when I was taking off my shirt, I had forgotten about it completely until I remembered how you always jabbed me when you were mad."

She looked at him cynically but said nothing.

"So you can't defeat this vampire _branleure _because she has your blood and thus your powers and a few memories."

"That's pretty much my problem. I called you here because you might be a match for her since she doesn't have your memories and stuff."

"Then we attack her together."

"Right. And Genevieve can be our cheer squad."

Lucia laughed and Dante was just a little surprised. He hadn't even thought it was that funny and Lucia never laughed outside of when she was sticking a dagger through and through some demon foe's torso. He had to admit she looked good, red hair in it's customary braid, blue clothes exchanged for black, presumably in mourning although she didn't mention it, she even smiled once in a while. This had been one weird couple of days. Hard to believe not four days ago he'd been playing Pool alone in his office.

The sun began to set behind them tinting everything bloody once again like a bad omen. They movedas a threetowards the building silent and serious with their shadows long in front of them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hmm, short chapter this time, maybe i'll post another tomorrow to compensate. Finally I get to write real action. I want to say such a huge thankyou to Embrace-the-Darkness and Keep Me In The Shadows, you kept my spirits up. This one's very definitely for you. It's a tiny tad more romantic than previous parts but I dislike gratuitous mush so it's only implied, not at all easy in an action chapter. But at last we get to see some vampire blood fly. Enjoy it, Skaye.**

* * *

When they entered the scarlet palace, the vampires were just beginning to wake and shake off their stone skins like cocoons. As soon as the first of them saw the intruders, they attacked with teeth and claws. Dante and Lucia were ready. At a curt nod from Dante, Lucia turned and bolted the heavy wooden door.They thenran forward together and double jumped over the vampires giving them the advantage of space and pressing their enemies up against the wall and the firmly closed door. Lucia twirled and locked the opposite door of the foyer behind them then charged and slashed, Dante at her side hacked and chopped. Both fought hard pressing all the time to keep their position between the vampires and the open space of the hall. They were separated within 30 seconds but still continued their attacks relentlessly. Dante hated fighting at such close quarters and longed for his guns but coped, swinging his sword around his head levelling those who pressed at him. They scratched at his face and tore at his eyes with nails like knives but with yell after yell he slashed and cut like a slightly overzealous gardener. He uttered curse after curse as blood splattered his face and arms. Lucia kept more space between her and her foe using her speed to great advantage. The vampires fell in bloody screaming swathes.

On the other side of the door, the rest of the vampire court had begun to catch on to what was going on within. They beat against the door trying to enter and reinforce the falling numbers within.

Dante and Lucia finished off the ones inside with one last swipe of Dante's sword and then at a count of three unbolted the door. The vampires poured in wielding fierce demon knives and thin sharp swords. Entering in ones and twos through the narrow doorway, they stood little chance and over 20 fell before they realised it was futile and fell back.

Both sides had the space of about a minute to wait and breathe until the vampires, now fully grouped, charged down the door and overwhelmed the two demon hunters. They were trampled down under so many vampires, their faces were scratched and cut, their hair pulled at and razor-edged demon blades cut them over and over. Dante felt blood trickling down into his eye from a gash on his brow. In a moment of perfect calm and clarity, the blood ran into his mouth and he felt something inside him silently and sharply snap.

He straightened suddenly in spite of the force of the tide of vampires and his eyes glowed. With a snarl, he Triggered in a blaze of red light and licked his tongue slowly across his newly pointed teeth. The vampires had stopped their charge sensing trouble. When they saw him transformed, they began to run but he leapt on them, swiping with his bare arms and clawed hands. He redrew his sword and wielded it with great and terrible force ripping through vampire flesh like paper. Blood flew and the screams that filled the air were terrible.

As the last of the living flew, Dante slipped painfully back to human form. He had lost track of time slightly but he knew for certain he'd never sustained a transformation for that long before. Turning again, his heart leapt into his mouth at the sight of Lucia lying broken on the floor near the splintered door. He dashed to her side and inspected the damage. It wasn't good; her left arm was at a horrible angle, blood ran freely from her head, numerous parts of her face and an open gash in her stomach. Her legs were undamaged but curled around her form defensively and she flinched at his slightest touch. Not all bad news then, she was still alive. He moved her off her damaged arm and, placing his right hand in her mouth to stop her from breaking her teeth, he relocated her shoulder with his left. The pain in his hand as she bit down on it was quite remarkable but clearly not much compared to hers. She writhed and he almost dropped her but kept a firm hold until she stopped gasping.

He removed his now bleeding hand from her (he swore her teeth had, for a moment, met in the middle) and helped her to her feet. She looked around, dazed with pain. Dante smiled at her kindly and handed her the most precious of her weapons, the two curved Sai. She sheathed them and nodded her thanks to him raising her hand gingerly to her lacerated face. The hideous gash in her stomach was healing already as were Dante's wounds which he'd previously ignored. They stood healing for a few minutes without speaking; they had with time perfected the articulate silence. Eventually it was Lucia's voice which broke the silence;

"What happened in the end? I remember the stampede and not a lot else."

Dante gave a cocky grin and wiped the blood from his face.

"You didn't miss much, I was awesome, they didn't stand a chance. I reckon we can go after Madeline herself now if you're, uh…"

He didn't bother to finish the sentence. Lucia answered instantly;

"I'm ready if you are,_homme diable, _do you know where we're going?"

"I don't know this palace exactly but I think I can guess; the Ball Room. Madeline will be waiting for us and presiding over another one of those nice little parties of hers."

Lucia returned his slightly devilish grin which surprised him. She spoke in a low teasing tone;

"Want to go gatecrash?"

Dante nodded and they set off at a run following the sound of the intertwining strings melody which streamed like a banner from the ball room at the heart of the building.

* * *

**Little post-script thingy here, just a straw poll. Is it just me or are there recently more fanfics about Vergil than Dante? Is he being overtaken asoverall favourate character? I'm still solidly behind Dante. Although Chaos' Warm Embrace by Laylah (highly reccomended) has made my mouth water at parts...(slaps self) sorry about that. Let me know what the general opinion is won't you?**


	10. Chapter 10

**More action sequences coming up here, if you don't hate Madeline by the end of this chapter i'm not doing my job properly. As always, dedicated to my reviewers who, in this case, are my dearest regulars, Embrace-the-Darkness and Keep Me In The Shadows (both of whose DMC stories kick some serious ass READ THEM! lol) and Lucia who gave me a boost when i was down. **

**I'm sorry I made you wait Shadow, I hope the chapter was worth it. Perhaps I will write something with Vergil. I just find it tough to think of something that hasn't already been done well. I'll get to it. Maybe when this storie's done.**

**I have decided not to mark this as romance because a) i don't think the content merits it (Dante hates Madeline) and b) i'd never live it down, my friends are cruel and unusual. Jared, if you're still reading i hope the character changes satisfy you, I do see what you mean. And one unreasonably long author's note later, here's the bloody chapter. No pun intended. Love to all, Skaye.**

* * *

Dante and Lucia sprinted through the corridors of the palace uninhibited until they reached the open doors of the ball room. They didn't slow down for a minute, merely charged in and came to a sudden halt at the sight that met them. There was indeed a dance in motion but now the assembled crowd who had survived Dante's Devil Triggered onslaught were garbed in black with jewellery of ornate pewter set with jet.Dante found the swirling glittering black against thebright red decor at once striking and disquieting. 

Despite the funereal getup, they danced as briskly as before round the dais on which sat Madeline, now the only one in red velvet, and beside her bound to the subordinate throne, her mother. Genevieve was beaten and unconscious but tied upright and dressed in a flowing white robe. Beside her vibrant daughter, she looked old and weary but there was a manic glint in Madeline's gaze still that made Dante uneasy. She looked up at him and with some surprise at Lucia as they stood by the doors. She held up her hand for silence and the music and dancing promptly ceased. She stepped forward beaming at her guests, her high pure voice filling the hall.

"Dante, you honour my company once more with your presence. Have you come back to claim your bride or just her head? And your pretty companion, the cavalry of which _ma chere maman_, spoke of course. I wonder, is she your lover or your chaperone?"

Dante had never had much patience for small talk and cut straight to the chase hurling a knife at her which she swiftly caught as he knew she would.

"You disappoint me, _mon amour," _Madeline said running her fingers along the blade. "Don't you want to even try to resolve our little dispute the civilized way?"

"Why waste precious fighting time?" Dante said pulling another couple of knives out of his jacket. He drew his hand back to throw them but Lucia stopped him and said under her breath in his ear;

"Look at Genevieve, Madeline can easily kill her from here if we attack."

Dante shook her off saying louder;

"She could kill her anyway, Lucia, if she wanted to. Besides what's one life compared with what she could take if she lives?"

Lucia's look told him instantly this was the wrong thing to say but she never lost her cool or loosened her grip on his arm;

"I agree that collateral damage is of low priority under these circumstances but if we can save a life we should. Besides there's something more to this. She has something planned."

Madeline was impatient, no longer the centre of attention. She raised her voice again sarcastic;

"I hate to take sides in a lovers quarrel, Dante my darling, but the redhead – Lucia did you call her? – she is correct. I didn't allow you to come here merely for the purpose of killing you, goodness no; I want the pair of you to be witnesses to the immortalisation of my dearest mother."

She traced her mother's cheek seemingly tenderly with her fingertips, her nails leaving thin scratches that bled. In her unconscious state, Genevieve stirred and moaned. Dante's fists and teeth clenched. Lucia looked grim. Madeline smiled cordially at them both.

"Poisoned. Exceptionally deadly. My blood will save her but kill me and she'll be cold by sunrise. The unconsciousness is temporary though. As soon as she wakes, we'll begin. Adelio! Fabien!" she called to two of the assembled vampires, "why don't you fetch drinks for my dear friends here."

Dante's patience snapped and he leapt at Madeline drawing his sword as he went. She overpowered him easily and slammed him to the floor by his neck jamming a long crimson fingernail into his throat so that if he moved even a little he would die.

"That's bad manners, Dante, and I don't appreciate people behaving badly in my house especially as I've been so courteous and not killed you yet." She hissed in his ear.

Lucia appeared behind her and slid a knife to her throat saying savagely;

"You draw a drop of blood from him and yours will spill and spill until you die, Madeline."

Madeline brushed her off roughly although one of Lucia's knives caught her wrist as she flew to the heavy velvet draped wall. Blood dripped from the cut even as it healed. Madeline looked at it oddly and for the first time a little scared so that she eased her grip on Dante's neck. He seized his chance and struck her hard across the jaw with the pommel of his sword. She shrieked and fell backward then came at him furiously ripping at his face with her nails just as her minions had done. He cried out and flinched, leaping backward into the crowd. She let him go and watched haughtily as Lucia joined him.

"That attitude will result in your death some day, Dante; I know I can't be the first one to tell you."

He smiled at her irritation;

"Heard it before and, you know something, I'm still alive. Which is more than can be said for most of the people who keep telling me shit like that."

Adelio and Fabien returned with two pewter goblets set with jet stones and handed them almost reverently to Lucia and Dante. They looked suspiciously at their contents which looked and smelled like wine. Dante sniffed at his.

"What have you done with it?" he asked, refusing to go on faith when it came to Madeline. She shrugged innocently in reply.

"There's nothing wrong with them, I just thought you could use a little refreshment. It's only good manners."

She said the last part pointedly and Dante rolled his eyes and set the goblet, still full, on the table. Lucia, however, was glaring at Madeline with a fixed cold hatred in her eyes. Defiantly she raised the cup to Madeline as if in a toast then brought it to her lips and drained it in one mouthful. Dante looked at her, incredulous. Madeline just shrugged again.

"At least your sweet friend has better manners than you, Dante. Proof that not all demon hunters are coarse stubborn idiots."

Dante was nettled as much from Lucia's actions as by Madeline's. He disliked enemies who played power games and despised allies who played along. His bad mood was interrupted by a loud moan from Genevieve as she woke and looked about. Dante could see the fear in her expression even from where he was standing. She looked wildly up at her daughter who smiled benignly back.

"My dearest mother, don't look so frightened. You're in no danger from me, I promise you."

Genevieve looked highly unconvinced andheaved uselessly at the bonds that held her to the chair. Madeline looked untroubled.

"Just a precaution you understand. In case Dante and his lady tried anything heroic."

Dante and Lucia approached the dais unperturbed by Madeline's threat.

"I hope you're not thinking of springing an attack while I'm unbinding my mother, Dante. Her neck could break so easily you know and I'm certainly not afraid to do it."

Dante moved on.

"It's nothing to me, Madeline. What's another human life?"

Madeline looked mildly troubled.

"You're bluffing. I've heard of your ways. You wouldn't endanger a human innocent if you could avoid it. Lucia knows. You know. You wouldn't do it." She regained her confidence as she spoke, affirmed by her own words.

Dante and Lucia stopped at the steps to the dais ready to attack in a moment. Madeline untied her mother and helped her to her feet. Genevieve was terrified and looked beseechingly at her daughter who still smiled, disgustingly confident and pleased at the fear she was causing. She waved with her hand and the music restarted, a single violin wailing an uncertain melody in a shrill voice while the three lower strings counted out a steady rhythmic beat of long droning notes. The effect was eerie and beautiful.

Dante's heart pounded in spite of himas the candles were one by oneextinguished leaving only a dim few in red sconces that tinted the place a deep scarlet. It felt like a theatre. He hated it. Dramatics at a time like this just seemed poor taste. Lucia's face was annoyingly calm when he cast a glance at her. She seemed determined and cool. He secretly took strength from it.

Satisfied with the state of her stage, Madeline began her performance. She circled her mother's head slowly three times with her left hand like a crystal ball and then placed the hand under her neck. With the other, she supported her back and gently lowered her now limp figure to the floor. Kneeling before her with her face to her 'audience', she swept the hair back from her mother's neck. She lifted the head and neck towards her and slowly, slowly bit into her neck.

The strings swelled and the music filled the hall like blood in a great red mouth. Dante was chilled and shuddered. He despised blood ceremonies. His hands found the hilt of his sword and he gripped it, his nails digging into his hands around the handle. Lucia barely flinched. Madeline finished and then, raising the knife she still held, the one Dante had thrown at her, she slashed at her own right hand and lowered it, dripping blood, to her mother's lips letting the red liquid flow into her mouth. Once the wound healed she stood and waved her hand for the music to be quiet. It continued softly behind her whispred words as she stood pulling her mother to her feet.

"Rise, my mother, and meet your court. You are now truly one of us."

Genevieve's eyes opened wide and horrified as she realised what had happened and what she had become. She gave a little sob and ran out. Madeline made no move to stop her, she shrugged indifferently.

"And now that's over and my guests have witnessed it, I think they should die. Let their blood cover the floor on which we will dance." She waved her hands at Lucia and Dante and then settled back onto her throne to watch the fight.


	11. Chapter 11

**It's been crazy here, i'm trying and trying and definitely going to pass my damn driving test. Even if it kills me. Which it might just. Anyway, new chapter here, it's yet more action for those of you, I know, who love it. A little implied romance at the end if you choose to read it that way, i like to keep it open. It's not with Madeline, you may be glad to hear. That bitch is going down.**

**My warmest thanks to Keep Me In The Shadows (can you tell me what catagory your vamp story is under, i'm curious now, and thank you thank you thank you. peace.), Lucia (i freaking hate Madeline) and Grand Master D (never previously thought about a sequel but i am now, damn you with your ideas...). Anyone else out there reading this, drop me a line and let me know what you think even if what you think is "cram it, Skaye, it's getting old." **

**Here's the chapter, hope you enjoy it, Skaye.**

* * *

The black-clad vampires pressed in again, this time almost three times as many, around Dante and Lucia who stood back to back drawing their weapons and sizing up the situation.

"I'll take care of them, you go for Madeline," Dante ordered under his breath.

"No, I'll fight them with you then we'll both destroy Madeline together." Lucia replied taking a first swift slice at a leering courtier in a thick black cloak that got too close.

"I hate it when you question my strategy right before we fight, you know that?" Dante said bringing his sword back around from a wide arch to take the heads off two who had come at him. Lucia smiled as she plunged one knife then the other into a vampire who'd fastened itself to her neck.

"I thought that was what caused most of our fights in the first place."

Dante grinned cleaving another attacker clean in two, blood sailing in a thick shower over his head and face;

"I hate you enough already, youfreaky bitch of the Vie De Marli demonic caretakers associassion, don't make it worse."

Surprisingly Lucia caught his ironic tone and didn't take offence, she even replied inkind as she whirled like a dancer and sliced a blonde attacker from shoulder to shoulder;

"I despise you equally, you _casse-cou_ son of an archane demon meat-head. You can't even kill a megalomaniac corporatepsychopath properly."

Dante couldn't reply as a crowd of vampires temporarily overwhelmed him and tore him from Lucia's side.

All he saw for several minutes was whipping black garments of velvet, silk and brocade, white skin with great red mouths and blood over everything. Their nails and teeth drew lines of intense pain over every inch of his exposed flesh. He roared and raged at them, bones broke and skin tore under the blade of his sword. Blood erupted over all obscuring his vision completely but still he hacked on, ears full of shreiks of pain and fury and the rushing clang and strike of the heavy metal blade.

They fought fiercely and killed more than half the vampires present before Madeline got bored and a little anxious that her troops wouldn't be able to withstand the attack and descended into the fray herself. ShesnatchedDante by the arm and flung himat the far wall of the ball roomthen followed him. There she hauled him to his feet and began to tear madly at his face again screeching like a cat. He wasslightly scared for a moment then just pissed off. He struggled to draw his sword and slashed at her, cutting her right hand clean off. She screamed piercingly and the noise drew Lucia's attention. She took a short run and double jumped over the heads of her attackers to reach Dante's side just in time to drag him out from in front of Madeline before she descended upon him with furious blows. Madeline yelled and sobbed furiously and it took Dante and Lucia all their strength to keep the raving demon girl from tearing them limb from limb.

They split in front of her, Dante hammering away at her right side with great blows from his sword while Lucia swiped and sliced in frenzy at her left. Madeline screamed and called to her court to come to her aid. Dante caught a brief glimpse over their heads as he pivoted at Genevieve standing helpless and desolate on the dais looking very like a nervous bride in her white dress.

Then the vampires crowded in behind them eager to help their Lady in her destruction of the pair. Lucia and Dante met eyes desperately as they moved to their last-stand back-to-back formation. The look said they wouldn't last long and they knew it. There was no time for words but something passed between them in that desperate second that was sweeter by far than any last goodbye. A bolt of meaning and feeling flashed between two pairs of blue eyes. Then the crowd descended and Lucia was facing them on one side, Dante fending off an enraged Madeline on the other.

It was hopeless, within a few minutes they were overwhelmed and the last thing Dante heard clearly was a choked sob of pain from Lucia along with a sound that reminded him horribly of a great hammer hitting a raw joint of meat from a great height. Then there was a lot of pain. Pain like he'd seldom felt in all his long time as a demon hunter mercenary.

He dropped to the floor hearing a lunatic triumphant laugh spill from Madeline. The vampires backed off and he saw swimming red light everywhere. There was so much pain. He couldn't breathe and he could hear his heartbeat echoing sluggishly in his ears growing louder as the pressure in his head increased. From outside the swirling torrents of pain and darkness, he could hear faintly two female voices yelling at each other. He heard a scream of pain and rage followed by more yelling, another more strangled scream and he felt a warm spatter of blood hit his face.

"_Genevieve?_" he thought faintly before the red and darkness won out and the pain gave way to sweet oblivion.

* * *

**P.S. I have updated my author profile so you all can know exactly who you're reading if you care to. Thanks, Skaye.**


	12. Chapter 12

Dante felt warm arms around him and opened his eyes to find himself in his carved wooden bed under a rough warm blanket with his mother at his side, embracing him softly. He was a child again, covered by the veil of his mother's goden hairand his brother, only 8 years old, stood in the doorway looking at him with solemn concern. His mother was kissing his head and telling him how worried she'd been. Dante smiled. His mother was always worried about something when it came to her sons. Hisdark giant of afather joined his brother in the doorway. One was like a miniature version of the other with identical concerned but severe frowns. His mother's smile was a stunningcontrast, she was warm and gentle. He knew this was not always the case, he'd heard of her skill and merciless demeanour in battle but with her sons she was a veritable angel. He blinked back tears as she stroked the painful gash on his head with tender fingers. She looked up at his father.

"What exactly happened out there, Sparda?" she'd asked softly. Sparda had shaken his head and looked at Dante with an odd unreadable anger. His voice was deep and gravelly, accentless and precise;

"There was an attack; two rogue Sin Scissor who tracked us down somehow. Your songot it in his head to take upmy sword and face them."

Pride and wonder flashed across his mother's face as she turned back to Dante.

"Our son, Sparda, not just mine," she teased. Then she looked thoughtful. "It's happening more and more. These attacks. I don't know just how safe we are here any more."

His father had looked grave and came over and put a hand on his mother's shoulder which she held, her other hand still on Dante's aching head. Everything was alright; Dante knew it as instinctively as he knew the exact way to use the mysterious sword his father kept hidden so carefully. His brother came to stand with them never losing his solemn imitation of his father's expression. It made Dante laugh sometimes. Sparda spoke again but the scene was fading to darkness, was he going back to sleep?

"He was winning you know. He killed one and was overcoming the other well when he lost his footing. If he only had a little training…"

Then Dante woke up to a merciless barrage of pain spanning from his head down his neck, shouders and arms. Of course it had been a dream. His mother and father were dead and that evening long lost to vague memory. He felt a fleeting sadness.

He sat up painfully, the ache in his head had been real anyway, and took stock of his surroundings. He was in a room similar to the green chamber where he'd first spoken to Genevieve but this one had a large low bed in it with soft thick green sheets and blankets to match the walls and bed curtains. He was injured, fairly badly so, but alive and that seemed to suggest that Madeline had not won. Unless this was another game. But if that then why bed him in Genevieve's chamber, as he felt sure this was? He got painfully to his feet and tested them to see if it was possible to walk. It was; he inwardly congratulated himself.

Slowly he walked to the only door in and out of the room, opened it and walked through. He was in the green parlour adjoining it in which he'd spent one restless night in hiding. There on one green leather chair sat Genevieve. She rose with relief in her now very white face as he entered. She smiled at him and helped him to his seat. Of Lucia he could see no sign. That worried him oddly.

"I'm glad you've recovered so quickly, Dante," Genevieve was saying, "I hoped I would have a chance to thank you before the sun rose and I became one of those ghastly statues."

Dante nodded causing a twinge of pain up his neck and gave her a half smile, his vision slightly blurred;

"What the hell happened in there, Genevieve?" he asked

Genevieve fidgeted and looked at him with an unhappy sigh;

"Madeline and my court almost killed you and Lucia; I thought they had for a while. Iwatched and couldn't stand it so I attacked my Madeline and, although it was a close struggle in which I lost one of my eyes," here she pointed ruefully at her left eye which was blood-shot and oddly pale, "I overpowered her and killed her; destroyed my beautiful mad daughter. The court accepted me with my new vampire blood as Lady of this place and my first order to them was to help you and Lucia to heal using any method except an exchange of blood. I'm not certain they listened to me in that aspect but you've healed up alright with no adverse effects so I suppose it's alright."

"And where is Lucia?" asked Dante with an urgency that surprised him, "Is she alright?"

Genevieve sighed and gestured to the doors to the chamber in which Dante had first seen Madeline asleep.

"She rests in there. She is not as powerful as you and her injuries were severe but she lives and should continue to do so."

Dante rose to go to the chamber but Genevieve continued talking;

"Please, in just a little while I will enter my daylight sleep and will not reanimate until dusk. I beg you to stay on this island until then so that I may reward you fittingly for both great services you have done me." She smiled a little evilly, "And I promise I will make no wedding plans for you this time."

Dante returned the smile;

"Thanks Genevieve. And I'll try to be a bit more of a dinner guest. See ya at sundown."

He entered the warm light room and closed the door behind him. There in the centre of it lay Lucia on the same great white bed he'd first laid eyes on Madeline upon. She wasnot as stunning in appearance as Madeline had been but there was a definite beauty to her bright blue eyes, now closed, her Cupid's-bow mouth and the way her red hair framed her face especially on the rare occasion he saw it out of braid and flowing down her neck.

He no longer bothered to chide or be surprised at himself for these thoughts because it was pointless. After all, she was a pretty girl and he was a guy with eyes and a pulse. What harm was there in noticing her good points? He sat with her for a couple of hours thinking over his dream and the whole incident on this island until he saw her eyelids beginning to flutter and her breathing quicken. She was waking.

He rose to his feet and exited stage left. Intimate resurrection scenes weren't his thing. Lucia's eyes opened as he slipped out the door and she saw his fleeting red form with her blurry eyes. She smiled to herself at the strangeness of her partner and then realised the far greater strangeness that existed in the fact that she was still alive. She got unsteadily to her feet and pursued him, almost falling over with shock when she saw a placid statue of Genevieve sitting in one of the leather chairs in the parlour. She could guess the rest of the story pretty much and as she had no idea which of the three other doors that led from this parlour Dante had taken, she just returned to bed. There would be time for questions later.

The two of them stayed apart, each in their own world of thoughts and conclusions - and concussions -until sunset woke Genevieve again. She summoned them to her parlour where she hada light mealbrought also 'to keep them alive until the feast' she'd explained. She'd then brought Lucia up to date with all that had happened and told both of them the news that Madeline's cremation was to be performed that night at midnight on the beach where her husband's had been. She'd said this with an odd sadness in her voice that Dante and Lucia knew better than to question. Then they'd been given clothes to wear for the banquet and ceremony, a fine dress of pale blue silk for Lucia and a well-cut suit of dark blue brocade for Dante. He stillknew he'd look like a moron but said nothing. As they retreated to their separate rooms to change and prepare, Genevieve said;

"You can look a little happier if you like, we've won a great victory and this celebration is for you, in your honour. And I promise there will be no dancing. Not for you anyway."

They'd smiled at that and Dante had feigned a reluctant sigh as he replied;

"Damn, and I was just getting the hang of that funeral waltz. Just shuffle about miserably like a drunk pall-bearer and you're half way there."

Later they met up in the parlour again, Dante in his suit with his hair re-combed and styled neatly and his boots shined (he'd insisted on hanging onto his own boots this time no matter how ridiculous it looked.) Lucia seemed highly self-conscious in the shimmering blue gown with her hair down and styled in gentle waves around her face, her icy glare almost dared Dante to laugh. He held back his laughter and taken her arm in his most pretentious gentlemanly manner and they walked up the stairs together. At the top they caught sight of themselves in a mirror and only then did both of them laugh, roughly, uncontrollably, at themselves, at each other, at the absurdity of the whole farce. Demon slayers in dinner wear. They regained their composure after a moment and then a few snide comments later they were on their way to the dining hall.

The feast set out for them was magnificent, greater even than the mealDante hadattended only two nights ago at Madeline's awakening. The court who sat with them didn't look at them or speak to them butthis was more out of genuine fear than any plans to end their lives painfully in the near future.

Dante relaxed and ate his meal keeping his eyes and conversation fixed on Genevieve and Lucia feeling very left out when they lapsed into speaking French which he knew next to none of. They spoke it naturally and easily though and their voices were quite beautiful in it as well, Lucia's lost a little of its edge and Genevieve's sounded deeper and smoother, less stilted. Dante let them continue as he just listened to the words, he was alarmed but not surprised to hear his name come up once or twice and acted like he didn't notice. Near midnight, the entire court headed out, each person bearing a tiny candle in a small red glass jar, down to the dark beach under the stars.

Madeline's still form, cleaned up and dressed in white, beautiful as ever, was bourn with them and laid on a large wooden pyre a few metres from the high-tide line. The entire was covered inoil and set alight. Dante watched from high up the beach with a little satisfied smile as his enemy burned. He heard a little sob from Genevieve every once in a while but Lucia, as usual, was unreadable. Shegazed abstractly at the flames, her thoughts miles away. The court showedappropriate respect but no real grief; the pretty lunatic who had ran their coven for a day or two was dead and life went on. The flames died down as the sky turned deep blue in the East and the stars weakened. Dante was by now getting pretty tired and definitely wanted to get off this island and back home. He caught Lucia's arm as the procession headed reverently inside.

"I'm getting pretty sick of this place, I'm changing then heading home. Are you, I mean, what were you planning to…" he trailed off uncertain of just what he'd been planning to say. He looked up at her and saw her smiling at him. He bristled. "Do you want to return with me to the Devil May Cry is all I wanted to know."

She smiled still and said teasingly again;

"As long as I'm welcome."

He'd smiled slightly and taken her arm to escort her indoors in his gentlemanly way but she'd waved his arm away with a laugh. They walked in companionable silence back down to the cellar where they slept.

* * *

**Thought I'd put the author's note at the end of the chapter this time so as not to interrupt the flow of the story. Sorry for the cliff-hanger last chapter, folks, couldn't resist. That, anyway, was the penultimate chapter of the story although i'm writing a pretty neat Epilogue that might become the beginning of a sequel. We'll just see. **

**Love, as usual, to Keep Me In The Shadows (there's always time, "do what you can, what you want, what you must" - KMFDM - Trust), Embrace-the-Darkness (cruel's what i am and what i do, hope this makes it up to you) , Lucia and everyone else (ha ha) who reviewed this. You keep me going guys, thank you xx.**

**Bye for now, Skaye.**


	13. Chapter 13

**My sincerest apologies to everyone for the lateness of this chapter, i've never been so long without access to a connected computer. Finally got the bitch back online tho and got to work on this. The final chapter and i've done my best to make it worth the wait. I've also started another story (Lord of the Rings based) which I'll be posting soon and the Epilogue to Rahovart is being worked upon. Hope you enjoy this last one. It's dedicated to my best and favourate reviewers (you know who you are by now, love you) Here we go, Skaye.**

* * *

Later the next day, two figures in red leather or blue denim battle gear, bristling with concealed blades and happily weighed down by bags of coins from Genevieve, walked leisurely down to the shore to where both small boats were landed above the tide line. Without a single word, Dante got into his, Lucia to hers and with a nod and a small smile, they set off. They never meant to start a race but with two craft heading in the same direction at dangerous and probably illegal speeds it was inevitable. Especially when both drivers were highly competitive and almost immortal. They swept across the waves, boats lurching crazily throwing water over their occupants until they were drenched and it seemed a miracle they hit the harbour on the Spanish coast with no major injuries. Both were soaked through and Lucia smugly triumphant which meant drinks were on Dante. That evening he called Lady from the cheap hotel that smelled of fish and smoke to ask about borrowing her plane again to which she very reluctantly agreed; the plane, she'd said, was on its last legs. At dawn the next day, it got them off the ground, however, and they made it back to the US with minimal damage to life and limb. 

The pilot was terrified and made it very clear whenever the mood took him how slim their odds of survival were and exactly what he thought of them and their plan. He was largely ignored. Motor-biking back across the country to home with Lucia holding nonchalantly to his back, Dante reflected that despite how it may feel, he hadn't really been away for that long, about a week, and essentially not much had changed.

The Devil May Cry still stood (just) jammed into a grimy corner of the warehouse district with its door still hanging half off. He felt a sudden swell of pride for his home and walked inside stroking his hand down the lintel for luck. It was largely unchanged, the desk, the chair, the heavy old phone. Lucia instantly went up to her room (previously the guest room) and left her few belongings and showered. By now the sun was setting and Dante walked lazily around flicking on lights and checking over his beloved business.

He ordered two pizzas and put coffee on before going back to his desk and sitting in the chair, feet up on the desk as he had for years. On a sudden thought, he opened the drawer and took out the little dish that contained his little tokens from previous encounters. He dropped into it both the rings he'd been given, the original red-gold 'calling card' and Madeline's silver would-be wedding band.

He fingered the little things in it thoughtfully, suppressing with all his might the great tide of memories and images that they brought back. Lady's bullets punching into his flesh all over and his pain and cursing as he'd removed them later on, Trish hunting everywhere for that earring which he'd only found two moths after she left and the delicate little twinge of pain it caused as much by her memory as the little dagger-shape sticking into the soft sole of his foot. He saw again Lucia's tears as they watched the swirling portal in the air and she confessed to him what she'd just learned of her false lineage and origins. He saw again Madeline as he'd first seen her, pretty and pale on her bed and the sweet little smile she'd given her mother on waking.

He put the dish away. He hated wallowing in memory. Waste of time. He shook his head to clear it. Right on cue, the pizza arrived and as he got up to get it, Lucia came downstairs and sat down at the other side of the desk. She was carrying a new manilla file and a couple of pens and as Dante sat down again with the pizza, she began to write in easy copperplate. The title - The Court and Progeny of Lord Rahovart. He saw what she was planning and made to get up and leave but she looked up at him and fixed him with her stare.

"Please," she said softly, the first words spoken since their arrival, "it'll help, I swear. And we need to document it anyway."

Dante moaned and protested but sat down.

"Now how did this whole business begin?" she asked. He took a deep breath and began to recount the whole tale in facts and statements with a few vague opinions and coarse words about vampires. He confessed not a single thought or feeling and the job was done within an hour. Lucia put her pen down, closed the file and looked at him again with those intense blue eyes.

"And what does this mean to you?" she asked. The question caught Dante completely off-guard but he considered it anyway. He turned away from her and looked at the weapons and trophies mounted on the far wall. He sighed;

"It means vampires are total fucking fruit cakes."

She laughed slightly but her silence that followed made it clear she wanted more of an answer than that. He continued;

"It means if a friend gives you a knife, you should always cut your hand open with it when facing certain death. And…I guess it means I can't really handle everything alone all the time."

That answer satisfied her a lot more as if it had somehow proved something. She got up to leave taking the file with her to write her own notes. Dante settled back into his chair and kicked the phone as was his habit when he was in a less than good mood.

"Who says I can't work alone?" he muttered to himself.

He slept badly when he eventually did, his dreams were full of monsters and battles which, any other time, he might have enjoyed. Not tonight. Tonight when he closed his eyes, he stood in a grey barren field with Vergil in full battle gear on one side of him and Lucia, glowing strangely with a soft white light, on the other. They were both armed and seemed ready to face a foe he couldn't see. He turned to speak toLucia and enquire as to what in the hell they were doing there but before he could open his mouth, three grotesque monsters landed in front of them where they crouched snarling and gnashing their huge jaws. He gasped and swore and drew his sword ready to fight when the image cut out. He woke suddenly and breathlessly in his own bed in his own room. He quickly discovered the noise which had woken him, in the next room Luciasobbed and cried out in her sleep. Dante wasn't in the mood for being understanding, he rose and banged on the wall with his fist, yelling as he did;

"Hey, Lucia! Keep it down; some of us are trying to sleep! Lucia!"

The noise stopped and he heard her breathing heavily. He called out again, trying to sound unconcerned;

"You okay through there?"

Her voice in reply was breathless and edgy;

"I'm fine. I, uh, sorry. Nightmares."

Then there was nothing. He shrugged and went back to bed trying to figure out in his head what the hell the dream could have meant. He rarely dreamed and when he did it was never about Vergil. He regarded his brother with a sort of hateful indifference and scorn. It was ugly and he generally ignored it. As for fighting three weird beasts…? It didn't make sense. Unable to sleep any longer, Dante pulled on his clothes and swept his hair out of his eyes and headed downstairs. If Lucia showed any awareness of his movement, she gave no sign. He went all the way down to the basement and took up his guns.

Firing range; the perfect cure for insomnia. He took aim and focused his thoughts into just three things of vital importance; the ready gun, the painted centre of the target and the empty distance between. He fired three shots and the target fell. Satisfied, he fired again and again, bullets thundered and flew. Wooden circles splintered and fell. He felt calmer but continued until none were left standing. He twirled his gun and stuck it in its holster with a smug smile then paced to the end of the range and set the targets up again. He destroyed all but the last one this time and just as he took aim at it, a knife flew past his ear and buried itself into the heart of the target which promptly split and fell.

He looked around, peeved, and saw Lucia pulling another knife out of her belt with a perfect imitation of his own previous smug smile. He fired three bullets in her direction knowing they'd miss and dig themselves into the wall. Two did just this and the third; she deflected back at him with a swift flick of her Sai. He was impressed but said nothing. They set the targets back up together and stood side by side at the firing end of the range and took aim, knives and bullets flew for a few brief minutes before the last target gave up the ghost. As they walked back down the range, Dante said;

"Care to tell me about your nightmare?"

Lucia smiled and retorted;

"Would you tell me yours?"

Dante took the hint and shut up for another seven rounds while he thought about nothing in particular. The wonderful thing about target shooting was that it didn't require any thought but the intense focus of aiming and the satisfaction of hitting. He shared the space easily with Lucia whose presence seemed as natural to him as solitude. She was cold, true, but she was subtle and tactful and he sensed many many depths to her that were beyond him. Perhaps with time…. Depended how long she would stick around for really. He had a knack for losing partners on a regular basis. Especially female ones. But as they shot together he felt comfortable and easy in a way he was unused to. He liked it. The session ended too soon with the dawn light coming creeping through the high street-level windows. Lucia admitted she was tired at that point and headed off un-braiding her hair. Dante saw her leaving and called out;

"Hey! Lucia!"

She turned round on the stairs, hair down and full of waves from her braids, the way he so rarely saw it but liked it best. All he needed to see. He smiled truly satisfied at her.

"Nothing. 'night."

She shook her head at his hopeless strangeness and returned his smile before continuing upstairs. Dante smiled to himself and holstered his guns heading up after her ready at last to sleep.


End file.
